


Eighteen

by kscribbles



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Anal Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Peter/Charley - Jealousy. Teenagers can be jealous creatures, and Peter obviously can't keep it in his pants - I'd like to see what happens when Peter fucks someone else after they've been fucking regularly, and Charley has to deal with his feelings of jealousy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lj community FrightNight2011's kinkmeme: http://frightnight2011.livejournal.com/718.html

Charley had long since given up trying to find excuses to go over and see Peter. His mom was pretty okay with their hanging out, once the mutual life-saving was made known to her. And okay, she didn’t know _all_ the particulars of their friendship, but she didn’t need to either. Amy knew all the sordid details, though. In fact, _asked_ for them whenever she’d call from school in Florida. And if you’d have asked him a couple years ago if he thought he’d ever be having conversations with his crazy-hot ex-girlfriend about the crazier-hot sex he was having with _Peter Vincent_ …. he would have told you you were insane.

So yeah, he’d long since given up excuses, and just went over whenever he felt like it, but it just so happened he had a reason to go over this time, besides the usual. Peter had a book he needed for a paper he was writing on stage magic, and well, Peter _himself_ was an interesting text to peruse on the subject too. And he wouldn’t mind doing all manner of _reading_ tonight.

But Peter, it would seem, had other plans. When Charley arrived at the penthouse, a woman’s laugh greeted him, traveling all the way from the living space and through the archive/arsenal to the elevator. That was odd. Peter didn’t generally bring girls home. Not anymore. He said that since Ginger, knowing that his home wasn’t completely safe, it was better to keep them away, fuck ‘em at their place. Maybe it was a good thing, meant Peter was moving on, being a little less paranoid.

It didn’t really seem like a good thing to Charley though, when he saw her sitting on Peter’s lap, ostensibly trying to paint his nails with that ridiculous black nail polish he wore. It wasn’t jealousy or anything. What did he care who Peter screwed? Just seemed like not a very practical position for a manicure, was all.

The girl laughed again and accidentally tipped over the nail polish bottle, and instead of… dismounting to clean it up, she carelessly tossed the brush over her shoulder and lunged for Peter’s lips.

Neither one of them had seen Charley, so he scuffed his feet a bit, making slightly louder than usual entering-a-room noises, and when that wasn’t enough to announce his presence, he cleared his throat. Maybe a little loudly.

Peter broke the rather enthusiastic kiss and smiled as he saw Charley.

“Charley!”

“Hey,” he said, offering a faint wave.

The girl had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed as she climbed off of Peter, stood, and tugged down her very short dress.

“You know um…?” He wiggled his fingers at the girl, indicating she should supply her forgotten name.

“Lila,” she said with a smile.

“Lila, of course. You know Lila, don’t you Charley?”

He didn’t.

“She’s the new costume designer. The last one, you know…”

The last one quit when Peter threw a shoe at her (not AT her, Peter had protested, just in her general direction). The one before that, well, the official story was murdered by methed-up thieves; the real story was throat slashed by impatient vampire.

“Oh, right.” She did look vaguely familiar. She was blonde and cute, and totally his type; he probably _should_ have noticed her more often. “Hey,” he said to her as well, in greeting.

“Hi! Petey was just about to take me to dinner at the Aria, weren’t you? Do you know I’ve lived in this city for four months and I haven’t even been there yet?”

“Yeah, it’s… nice,” Charley said, and as Lila walked towards the bar to grab her purse, he just had to mouth _Petey?_ to Peter. Peter shrugged. And then out loud, Charley said, “Um, that book. For my paper. We were going to talk about all that magic versus illusion stuff. My paper is due Monday.” And also _we_ should be making out, he thought, but didn’t say. And then was annoyed and embarrassed that he’d even thought it.

Peter was standing and shrugging on his coat. “That’s days from now. Isn’t it?”

“Like two,” Charley pointed out.

Peter waved his hand dismissively. “Plenty of time. Come by tomorrow, we’ll chat. Or the book’s in that case there, third from the lift.” He pointed in the general direction.

“Oh, okay.”

Lila returned and grabbed Peter’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Charley,” she said, smiling again. He thought she might be a little drunk.

She tugged on Peter, clearly wanting to get gone. But Peter stayed rooted to the spot and fixed Charley with a stare, his eyes searching.

“Sorry,” Peter said, “there wasn’t anything _important_ that we needed to talk about? You know, anything, uh… pointed?”

Pointed was bad code for something point _y_ , i.e. with fangs, or needing the pointed end of a stake. Luckily, Lila didn’t seem to pick up on anything.

“No,” Charley said, trying to hide his disappointment, and… whatever else he might be feeling. “Nothing that can’t wait.”

“Brilliant.” Peter reached out and squeezed his cheeks with one hand, and planted a swift kiss on his smushed lips, which made the girl giggle again. “See you later.”

After they left Charley flopped into the chair they’d vacated, trying not to huff and pout. Instead he righted the upset nail polish bottle, dragged out his cell phone and began scrolling through his phonebook.  
He paused on Amy’s number, thinking about what he’d say to her. He couldn’t be _jealous_. He wasn’t. He knew Peter fucked other people. It had never bothered him. Charley himself was still with Amy when he and Peter had started this… thing. But somehow, seeing it, right in his face…

When Peter wanted you, it was like nothing else existed in the world. And actually seeing him _want_ someone else made Charley feel _unnecessary_ , and every bit the stupid kid he was. And it made him… angry.

Amy was excited to hear from him. It’d been almost a week since they’d talked. She was at a loud party, but went into a bedroom and closed the door to be able to hear him. He missed her terribly sometimes. Maybe especially when Peter was being a dick (he had to remind himself that Peter hadn’t _actually_ done anything wrong). When they’d caught up, she’d asked him to quit beating around the bush and to tell her what was wrong. He could never hide anything from her. So he just came out with it.

“How did you handle it as well you did? When Peter and I…”

“You mean, was I jealous?”

“Yeah,” Charley said softly, feeling stupid.

“The thing is, Charley. You and Peter, you’re like… like this… freight train. And it was either hop on and enjoy the ride or just get the hell out of the way, you know?”

“So that’s why you left?”

“You _know_ why I left, Charley, and it had nothing to do with any of those nights at the penthouse, and everything to do with—”

She stopped. Amy didn’t even like to say the word _vampires_. Charley steered the conversation back on course. “He’s out with someone tonight,” he said, hating that he sounded like he was whining. “Some chick who works on the show. I never cared before.”

“So you go out too! It’s Friday night, Charley, and you’re no one’s bitch. Go have fun. Call Bee, she wanted you _bad_. Especially when you became all extra badass.”

Charley chuckled and flushed a little. It was still weird that hot girls—hot _any_ one—wanted him. It was weirder that Amy was basically patting him on the ass and telling him to run along and fuck one of her friends. But then, his relationship with Amy hadn’t been _conventional_ in a while.

“Hey. I love you, Charley. Don’t be too hard on Peter. Or on Bee.”

Charley smiled and said goodbye. He contemplated making that other phone call, but he probably wasn’t good company tonight, he decided. He’d call her tomorrow when he was in a better mood. Amy had cheered him up some, like she always did, but he was still pissed off. And still as damned horny as he had been before he’d arrived. Maybe more. With a perverse thrill, he considered jerking off, right there in Peter’s house, surrounded by his things. Or better yet, in his bed, that’d fucking serve Peter right. But Charley decided he was probably just being petty. He should go home, grab a cold shower, and start on that stupid paper.

* * *

Peter wasn’t overly fond of rehearsals, but ones like today’s—working out the kinks in new bits—where he _didn’t_ have to don his stage costume _and_ he got to yell at people (okay, he could yell whenever he wanted), those weren’t so bad.

It’d been a decent day altogether, actually. So far. He’d woken up in a pretty girl’s bed that morning, he’d had a handful of cocktails throughout the day, no vampires had shown their fangs in his general vicinity, and he was reasonably certain he’d see Charley before the show. Wasn’t there something about a book?

Being cheerful was a relatively new phenomenon for him, and he was determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And it didn’t hurt matters that Charley basically _attacked_ him with hands and lips, the second he walked into the penthouse.

Charley wasn’t as cheerful though. His hands were aggressive, tearing at both their clothes when they weren’t raking through Peter’s hair. The kid’s lips were almost bruising, tongue demanding entrance and claiming Peter’s mouth.

It might have been only seconds before they were both naked in his sitting room and Charley ripped his mouth away to trail hot kisses along Peter’s jaw and neck, nipping at the skin there before growling at him.

“We had plans last night, you know.” Oh, was he angry? Because he’d gone out with that chick? Jealousy, from Charley? Odd, that. And sort of… flattering.

“Did we?” He shouldn’t tease a Charley who was feeling possessive, but he couldn’t really resist.

“ _Yes_.” Charley punctuated his answer by grabbing Peter’s arse and thrusting his hips.

“Not really,” Peter managed. Because it was mostly true. Come and get that book whenever you like isn’t _plans_. “And anyway,” he went on, “it’s what? Bros before hoes? She was _gagging_ for it.” Which was also true. And she had gagged, just a little.

“Was she good at least?” Charley demanded, pushing them up against a window.

“Passable,” he squeaked as his bum hit the cold wall of glass.

“Is she going to quit when you don’t call her again?” Charley reached down and stroked Peter roughly.

Jealous Charley was endearing, but apparently when he got like this, he was also _hot_ , so Peter _pushed_. “I might call her,” he said, as cheeky as he dared.

“Stop talking,” Charley grumbled, before releasing his cock, and pushing down on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter raised an eyebrow, but happily fell to his knees and took Charley’s cock into his mouth.

Charley moaned, not bothering to hold back a thing, just yanking at Peter’s hair and fucking his mouth with shallow thrusts.

Peter held on for the ride, adding what he could to make it good, his own excitement mounting quickly. Charley was by nature a fairly passive lover; he rarely was the one doing the fucking (and Peter was now sure that’s where this was heading), and _never_ dominated things this way. It was fucking _thrilling_. Peter wondered if he dared let go of Charley’s hips to stroke himself, but instead concentrated on making the younger man come.

Charley suddenly pulled him off. “Stop, stop, stop.”

He sat back on his heels. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come,” Charley answered, looking down at him, panting.

“So? You’re 18, you’ll be hard again in five minutes.” Peter made to resume his task, but Charley backed away.

“No.”

Oh, he really didn’t want to relinquish control. The kid was learning. Peter held up his hands, placating. “You’re in charge.”

Charley’s eyes flashed with something indeterminate before he got down on his knees as well, kissing Peter hard on the mouth, hands once again raking through his hair.

The kiss broke with both of them breathless. “I want—” Charley gasped out. “I need—” He collected himself a moment and tried again. “Gonna fuck you now.”

Peter smiled, grabbed _Charley_ by the hair this time and kissed him quickly, teeth and tongue and _need_ , before he pulled away and turned his back to him, stretching out on the floor.

He heard Charley fumble nearby for a few seconds, and then the snap of a plastic lid. A hand lightly smacked his thigh. “Up,” Charley demanded, and Peter complied, rising up on his elbows and knees.

He sighed in pleasure at the first touch of Charley’s fingers, readying him quickly and efficiently, like he’d done this a hundred times, instead of just of a couple. Or more like Charley couldn’t fucking _wait_.

Peter groaned. He couldn’t wait either. Shifting his weight to one elbow, he took himself in hand and stroked as he heard the condom packet being torn open and then felt Charley’s hand on his back. He pushed in slowly, letting Peter feel every inch of his cock.

“God, Charley,” he hissed.

“Okay?” A hint of concern, even now, with his intense lust driven by his confused feelings and bruised ego.

Peter shoved aside the wave of affection he felt wash over him and just pushed back against the other man’s hips. “Fuck _yes_. Do your worse, Brewster.”

Charley didn’t disappoint. He pulled back quickly, thrust right back in, setting a quick pace that had Peter’s eyes rolling back in his head. It was rough, it was possessive, it was so fucking good. Charley was grunting in that way he had when he was getting out of control, losing himself in the pleasure. And Peter, though he could barely think clearly, spared a thought to how he _loved_ making him feel this way. And loved feeling just _taken_.

It didn’t take long at all for Peter to come. He half collapsed onto the floor and Charley didn’t miss a beat, stretching out above him and furiously thrusting, chasing his own orgasm. Peter moaned encouragingly and moved as best he could against him, reaching back, touching any part of him he could reach. And then Charley came, Peter feeling the shudder all through his own body, the kid’s hips snapping a few last times before stilling.

Charley rested, panting against him for only a few seconds before pulling back. Head pillowed against his arms, Peter listened to the sounds of him rustling about the flat. Eventually Peter mustered the strength to roll over. He saw that Charley was pulling on his clothes.

“You’re leaving?” He stretched, the slow, satisfied movement of the well-fucked, and enjoyed the flick of Charley’s eyes along his naked body. “Come to bed and indulge in some decadent late-afternoon lethargy before I have to get ready for the show.”

“Thanks,” Charley said slowly, like he was considering it. “But I gotta go.”

“Your paper?” Peter asked. “Blow it off.”

“It’s already finished.”

“Hot date?”

“Yeah, actually,” Charley said. “And I have to go home first. You remember Bee? Amy’s friend—cute, brunette?”

He hadn’t a clue.

“She came to your show, before Amy left for school? No? Nothing?”

He shook his head. His life was full of cute brunettes; he couldn’t be expected to remember all of them.

“Anyway, I’m meeting her for a movie.”

“So was that was this was about?” he asked, feeling his own tiny twinge of annoyance. He didn’t mind furious jealousy-fueled fucking, but he didn’t particularly care for being used either. “Clearing out the ole chamber so you don’t shoot too early later on?”

“Um…” Charley look distinctly uncomfortable.

“Suppose I’m more fun than a wank, anyway. But you know…” He chose his next words carefully, not sure how much he wanted to rock the boat, but decided he couldn’t let the kid think he was _that_ oblivious. He stood and approached Charley, leaning in close to say hotly by the other man’s ear, “It didn’t really feel like just getting one out of the way. It felt like you were… staking a claim.”

Charley paused while buttoning his shirt. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about, dude. The only thing I stake is vampires.”

Peter felt the urge to make a saucy pun, but he resisted it, just. The mood wasn’t right.

“All right, fine. Go have fun on your date.”

“Look, I just wanted to fuck, that’s all.” _Some_ one was getting defensive.

“Isn’t that what your lady friend is for?”

“Yeah, well… she’s not a sure thing.” Was Charley trying to _wound_ him? For being a man-slut? That was almost… cute.

Peter laughed, all annoyance gone. He supposed they would need to have A Talk pretty soon, but for now, he’d be happy to fuck it out when _issues_ came up. He reached out and ruffled Charley’s hair.

“Oh Charley, sometimes I forget how very young you are.”

 

FIN


End file.
